Darkest Delight
by SiuanSedai
Summary: Moiraine Sedai has a dark secret, one which no one has ever found out.


No one knew Moiraine Sedai's greatest secret, not even Siuan Sanche. Moiraine had kept it for years, back from before she even travelled to the White Tower to study as a novice, back from when she was Moiraine Damodred. No one had ever guessed, either; it simply wasn't something anyone would associate with such a strong woman.

She'd met Lan Mandragoran, and he'd become her Warder. They'd quickly learnt to control their bond so they could get some privacy; they would have driven each other insane within months if they'd continued feeling conflicting emotions simultaneously while they were fighting. And when Moiraine indulged herself, or succumbed to, her darkest secret, she could hide any evidence of what she'd done so expertly that Lan never had any idea.

They'd just arrived in Caemlyn when Moiraine had received the letter. It bore the mark of the Amyrlin and she'd opened it quickly, expecting trivial news and gossip from her long-time lover. She'd only needed to read the first few lines before ripping it up into little pieces and throwing it into the fire. It was the only just end for such news. It would have been a just reward for Siuan if Moiraine had thrown her into the fire to blacken and crumble in the flame, Moiraine thought bitterly. 'Dear Moiraine, I have taken Elaida as my lover.' Where, Moiraine wondered, was the grace and poise in that letter, the elegance that normally flowed from Siuan's pen? Then again, she thought spitefully, what more could you expect from a fisherman's daughter?

It was when the door banged open and Lan ran in that Moiraine realised she'd forgotten to block their bond. She turned her face away from him, wishing he had not felt and seen her in her moment of weakness. Lan had knelt down before her and reached for her hands, refusing to allow her to pull back and save herself some dignity, and Moiraine had felt a jolt of shock through their bond.

"You do this often," Lan had stated, running his thumbs lightly along the white scars littering her wrists. Moiraine hadn't answered. She hadn't needed to; the white lines and the red blood running down her wrists spoke loud and clear. "Why?" Moiraine hadn't answered at first, determined not to weaken herself further by explaining herself. Then she'd slumped back in the chair and furious tears had streamed down her cheeks.

"Siuan found herself another lover," she'd said bitterly, angrily. She'd grabbed hold of saidar almost violently and hurled balefire at the fireplace in the corner before she'd even realised what she was doing. Who was Siuan Sanche to dump her, Moiraine Damodred? Moiraine snarled in a fit of anger and Lan watched spellbound as fire poured from her hands. Then he realised that the building would soon explode if he didn't bring her back to herself, and he moved into action.

Moiraine felt the fury leave her and she blinked, realising Lan was sitting in the chair with her held tightly on his lap, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing nonsense words in her ear. Lan had looked up when he felt the anger and tension leave her, and moved to let her restore the usual space between them, but she made no effort to move. Instead she'd brought her wrists up to where she could inspect the damage; now the bleeding had sowed Lan could see that she'd carved an S into the pale flesh, the letter standing out against the skin washed with blood. Moiraine inspected her wrists with fascination, turning them this way and that, and Lan was riveted by the cold, clinical feeling of evaluation he could feel through their bond.

"Do not speak of this to anyone, Lan," she'd commanded suddenly.

"On one condition," Lan said, knowing he'd never mention it anyway, knowing that she would not need to use their bond to compel him to remain silent. "Don't do it again." Moiraine looked at him, and nodded after a moment's pause. Then she was moving; Lan assumed she would move away from him but instead she simply shifted to straddle his lap, her forehead resting on his – she was so much shorter than him that sitting on his lap, her forehead was level with his mouth. Lan's eyes met hers and he realised with a stab of regret what she wanted. Regret, because even though a part of him cheered at the fact that a beautiful woman was straddling him and wanted him to make love to her, he knew he couldn't do it – he cared too much for her to do this, it would only hurt her more in the long run.

"No, Moiraine," he said quietly. Moiraine moved back quickly as if shot, hurt and anger filling her eyes; she'd left herself vulnerable for once and he'd hurt her. "You don't want this, you don't want me. I can't give you what you do want and I don't want to hurt you."

"So the great lost Malkier king's nobility is too great to allow him to comfort a woman who asks?" Moiraine said, idly running her hand up and down his chest. "There are more ways than one of getting what I want, Lan."

"You wouldn't," Lan said in disbelief. He knew she could use their bond to force him to do things, but… surely she wouldn't.

"You're right. I wouldn't," Moiraine said coolly after a moment. She moved away from him, walking to stand by the fireplace. "Goodnight, Lan." Lan knew he was being dismissed and left without another word, not believing he could stand to be in the same room as her after the threat she'd implied.

Moiraine watched the door slam behind him, and leant against the wall. 'What have I done?' she asked herself; in desperation for some outlet for her confusion, she reached for the knife.

* * *

I'm contemplating a sequel for this. Yes? No?

This is part of my set of stories written for the 15flames livejournal challenge, but I'm posting it seperately because of the rating. Just so you know )


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